it is all very round
by nyxovertop
Summary: The tv hisses, fizzes, then dies. Or: Augustus breaks his tv, and the gang tries to help out. Veruca/Mike, if you squint.


"It's not that bad." Charlie says. "We can fix this."

Across the room, Augustus stiffly clambers to his feet; he'd been crouching by the tv for the past five minutes.

"Yeah?" He sounds hopeful. Wrongfully so, Mike thinks. The only way a person could fix this mess was by reversing time itself, and Augustus was clearly not the man for that particular task.

"Sure." Charlie chirps, horribly optimistic. "All we need is a good electrician."

"You are totally and completely screwed." Veruca states and Mike laughs, he can't help it.

"Nice one." He tells her, and she looks up at him, sharply, green eyes wide. Charlie squints, too, as if Mike complimenting Veruca was the most shocking thing in the world. Which, okay, maybe it was. He doesn't do compliments. Mike blames this couch, laying on it was the most comfortable thing in the world, it was obviously turning his brain into mush.

The tv, as if agreeing, lets out a slow fizz. Augustus gives Veruca an alarming, despairing look, as if her comment only made things worse, and bursts into tears.

"My parents will kill me!" He moans, dropping onto the couch. He lands with a thump, knocking into Mike's boots. And heck, Mike is sorta pissed. Sure, it was Augustus' house, but Mike has spent the past five minutes getting comfortable. He sighs, then pulls himself to a begrudging sitting position. Augustus flops his head into his arms, back bowed into a u shaped curve. He looks miserable.

_Great_, Mike thinks, only partly sarcastic. Still annoyed at the whole Augustus stealing his spot thing, he props his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. His boots leave muddy tracks onto the table, two stains. On the other side of the room, Charlie fidgets. His eyes glimmer with some unfounded determination, and he walks over to Augustus, kneeling so he was eye level with the other boy.

"Augustus," he says firmly, but kindly, and Mike gets the distinct impression Charlie was trying to be comforting, "You're parents aren't going to kill you. We are going to fix this."

Charlie takes a small, furtive glance at the tv, which fizzes loudly. It was the same tv they had been staring at for the last hour, unremarkable in every way except for the rather large bowling ball stuck in its center. It was round and green, very much like Augustus himself, Mike thinks, who wore an absurdly green turtleneck sweater.

"Remind us, one more time, how this happened?" Charlie asks, gently. Mike mimes throwing up. Charlie being nice was the equivalent of a mother's coddling: totally unnecessary, and potentially lethal. The kid has more compassion than he knew what to do with.

Augustus; however, was rather willing to be comforted. He lifts his head, pulls out a handkerchief from somewhere within his sweater, and gives it a loud honk. Then, in a weepy, accented voice, he explains:

"I was eating my chocolate, and I suddenly ran out. I went to check the pantry, no chocolate their, either. I know my mother keeps chocolate on the back shelf," he gestures to a wooden shelf in a broad motion, right across from the tv. "So I go there. But the shelf is too high, and I stand on the couch to get up there. I accidentally knocked over bowling ball, which fell into tv. And the worst part? There was no more chocolate." This appeared to be all Augustus could take. His voice cracks, and he starts sobbing all over again.

Mike rolls his eyes.

"Knock it off, crybaby." He snaps, which only seems to make Augustus cry harder. Charlie glares at him, opens his mouth as if to retort, when the tv gives a very sudden, loud crack.

They all jump, but the tv has finished making noises: it sparks once more and then fades out altogether. Veruca gives it a long, suspicious look, as if she was afraid it would bite her.

"If this were my house," she states presumptuously, "Daddy would have fixed this instantly." She crosses her arms over her chest, looking pointedly at Augustus. He stares back, face blank and streaked with tears. Mike wants to hit something, then, but he's not sure why.

"Must I spell it out for you? Just buy a new tv! Or pay to fix this one!" She gives Augustus a 'duh' look, as if this was the perfectly obvious solution.

Augustus nods.

"You are right." He says, and Mike rolls his eyes again, because there was one gaping hole in this plan, one neither Augustus or Veruca haven't thought of. But Charlie did.

"I don't meant to be rude, Augustus, but where exactly would you get the money from?" His voice is low, polite. It's the one Charlie always gets when talking about money. Mike uses it himself, sometimes, but not nearly as much as Charlie does. When Augustus doesn't answer, Charlie continues, "I mean, you don't want your parents to know, so we can't use their money. We need to figure out how much everything will cost. The tv price, the cost to pay the electrician, then for repairs."

Augustus frowns, as if thinking very hard. Veruca looks completely stumped, and Charlie, at least, has taken out a piece of paper. He seems intent on doing the math himself, rummaging around in his rucksack for a pencil.

"That would cost $4,503." Mike says. Three pairs of eye snaps to his.

"However, given the cracks to the external screen, I'd say you have a five percent chance of fixing it. Your best bet it to buy a new one, which would cost $10,156." He pauses, nodding to the tv. "This model was purchased in 2000, right? Given the current market, and inflation, that's… $7,738 if you bought one right now. Give or take a cent."

The room is dead silent, punctuated only by the ticking of the overhead clock. Mike feels prickly under their gazes, uncomfortably hot. He smirks at them instead, raising his eyebrows. Because, yeah, he's smart. Smart enough to solve that in his head, to ace his tests without looking at the textbook. And he's used to this, people looking at him when he solves things that fast, judgmental, but it feels totally different when it's Veruca. And Charlie. And Augustus.

A second later, one that stretches tightly like a rubber-band, Augustus shakes his head. Veruca looks impressed, and Charlie was grinning.

Mike clears his throat. He is satisfied with this response, as non-verbal as it is. Not that he'll ever admit it, not in a million years.

"Now, who do we know who has lots of cash, and nowhere to put it?"

He looks pointedly at Veruca. Charlie joins him, and Augustus has caught on, at least, with very round, wide eyes.

Veruca stares back, eyes narrow and defensive.

"What?" She snaps.

The following day, the four of them meet at Augustus' house. The boy opens the door looking considerably happier than when Mike last saw him: cheeks puffy and grinning. He was munching on a large bar of chocolate. He smiles wider when he sees Mike, then Charlie on the step behind him.

Mike, already familiar with the other boy's house, let's himself inside, falls back first onto the couch with a restful sigh. A new tv gleams across from him, identical to the older one, sans the green bowling ball.

"What did your parents say?" Mike asks, gesturing towards it.

Augustus unwraps another chocolate bar. Nothing!" He chirps, mouth full. "They did not notice the difference."

Veruca knocks a second later, and Augustus quickly lets her in. Mike hears him thanking her, and the girl shrugs it off. It occurs to him, then, that she's not used to doing nice things, or receiving praise for them. She settles on the edge of the couch, and for a second they all stare, in a trance, at the shiny tv.

"So," Mike says, smirking, "Who wants to go bowling?"


End file.
